The past can become your future
by lotsofbrolly
Summary: John Steed returns to his country home when he realises what his future is lacking. Does the past hold all the answers? Read and find out?
1. Chapter 1

It had just turned lunchtime on a Sunday autumn day, when he left his stable yard. He made sure his prized chestnut mare was suitably catered for. After he had brushed her down, he replaced her heavy saddle for a more comfortable warmer coat. Afterwards he replenished her straw and water supplies. And patted her head as he locked the white stable yard doors.

The intoxicating acquired smell of horse musk and his own sweat clung to him and his riding gear. As he walked along his gravelled courtyard towards his impressive mansion. He opened his 19th century heavy oak door and walked into the open plan living area of him home. And it was his home. It may not have his children running around the hallways, up the stairs or around the living room. But as he walked into his lounge. He stopped to look around at his expensive surroundings. They were filled with his own and his family's possessions. He saw items that reminded him of days gone by, which he had acquired over many years. All were a certain and acquired taste. But nonetheless personal. And then there were items from his past that reminded him of places and people in his life. Some of those memories he had locked away, never to be spoken of again. But some items remained in mind, and so stayed on display.

He walked towards his fireplace. There he picked up a few marble figurines, such small trinkets from his various aunties. He turned and looked over towards his large oak desk from his Grandfather. He walked towards it, and sat in the creaked wooden leather lined chair. There he picked up his heavy metal silver embossed fountain pen. He sat looking at it, and turned it around in his fingers. As he thought of all the other items that could not be put on display. Some of these were part of him wherever he went. Images that flashed into his thoughts without permission.

That such moment a few days ago, when he was out at a dinner party with a group of influential friends. An old 1967 bottle of Red Premieres Cotes de Bordeaux wine was served and drunk. And instantly the taste brought back images of her smiling face, her auburn hair framed by candle-light. They sat alone in a small corner of Monsieur Jacques' Bistro. A family run restaurant of three generations of the Jacques name, as the elderly owner pointed out whilst serving the wine. The Bistro was situated in the little French village just outside the exact vineyard where the wine had been produced. There they had spent an extended few days of her birthday celebrations. Touring the vineyards sampling wine, purchasing a dozen bottles and enjoying their peaceful beautiful surroundings. It had been one of few memories he found difficult to forget about her.

Like the conversation they recently had. She also has "long, happy memories" of the time they shared together. He suddenly thought to himself. It had been three months since they had spoken. And he had only been back in the country for a week, after returning from Canada. He had missed his home. He had missed this country life. Most of all he still missed her.

As he slowly placed the pen down onto his desk. And he realised now was his chance to make those past memories a reality again. He picked up the heavy phone receiver and began dialling her number. He was worried. He somehow feared the sound of her voice, his stomach churned in anticipation of hearing her speak. The dial tone rang, and rang. Then finally she answered.

"Hello, Emma Knight."

"Emma, it's Steed. Would you be free for dinner tonight by any chance?".

His mouth was dry, his face was flushed, he was finding it difficult to swallow.

"Oh, Steed. Hello. Oh, now that would be wonderful. Say around 6? Where shall I meet you?" She answered, with surprise, and joy in her voice.

"I'll come to you for 6. I have 1967 bottle of Red Premieres Cotes de Bordeaux wine just ready for an occasion like this. Until 6 then Emma."

"The 1967 Bordeaux. I'll look forward to sampling the wine, again once more Steed. Until 6. See you then."

"Until then. Goodbye."

"Goodbye Steed."

He replaced the receiver, smiling to himself. Still shaking slightly from the conversation. And he rose from his chair.

He began unbuttoning his horse musk and sweat soaked waistcoat. As he walked towards and up his oak panelled stair case.

He was now embarking on a new day, and to begin creating new memories to fill his home with. Now was the time to look forward. He realised it was not the past that he longed for. It was his future. And today was the day he would choose to make it happen. Now all he needed was her to fill it.


	2. Chapter 2

This was the third time he stood readjusting his bow tie. As he fiddled with it in front of his antique full length mirror. He brushed down the dark green dinner jacket he wore, for the fourth time with his clothes brush. As he glanced at his chiming Victorian gold plated clock on his dresser, it had just gone Four-thirty. He clicked his fingers and said. "The Bordeaux". He placed the clothes brush on his dresser. As he walked out of his bedroom, closing the door after him.

He strode along the hallway humming a little tune to himself. As he padded down the oak panelled staircase with a little bounce in his step. He walked towards the east side of the mansion, passing the main open-plan entrance. As he opened the smaller victorian door into the country styled kitchen. The black and white tiled floor echoed his foot steps, as he walked to the far right-hand corner of the room towards a white wooden hidden door.

He felt along the top of the door-frame, for a sliding panel. When he touched it, it revealed a switch that he pressed down and the lock to the small cellar door clicked open. He pushed the door slightly and felt for the electric light switch nearest the door, and the lights flickered on. He took the small staircase gently, as the wooden steps were very small and creaked under his weight. As he reached the bottom of the stone floor. He walked along four room height racks that stood in rows filled with various bottles. There was Champagne, White wine, Rose wine bottles either chilled or warmed to perfection. The Red wine section was at the back far right, nearest the warmest part of the cellar.

He bent down towards an old create, embossed with the words "Premieres Cotes de Bordeaux Rouge" situated in the far corner. He bent down and opened the crate and took out one bottle of the 1967 variety he and Emma had sampled some ten years previously. Bizarrely the bottle was not dusty, as if he regularly came to the cellar to clean them. Or it could be because the crate had not been opened since 1967? He turned the bottle over in his hands and smiled to himself, as he brushed his thumb over the lettering and year on the label. He rose up and stood over the remaining six bottles in the create and smiled once more to himself. He was remembering each time a bottle had been drunk and what they had done afterwards. He hoped she remembered those times with the same pleasure he felt. And he wished the the same feelings would come back when they sampled this bottle this evening.

He said to himself, "let's bring the past to the present again Emma", as his smile broadened across his face once more. He walked along the stone floor passing the wine racks holding the bottle tightly in his grasp. As he carefully took each creaked wooden step back up the stairs. He switched the light switch off and closed the door gently, the latch locking afterwards. He walked through his Victorian kitchen, through the door into the main entrance hallway. He turned and walked into his living room and sat down on his light green chesterfield leather sofa. He placed the bottle carefully down on his dark green leather covered oak table. As he reached for the phone receiver and dialled the number for the small French bistro, Chez Henri, situated in a small unknown area of town.

The owner Henri answered cheerily. "Le Chez Henri Bistro".

As Steed spoke, he said, "Oh, Henri old chap. Is there a table for two free for your old friend Steed here? Available for say around 6:30 this evening?"

"Ah, Monsieur Steed. Wee, wee, non problèm."  
"Oh, excellentè Henri, is it non problèm if I bring my own wine?". Steed enquired.

"Non problèm, at all Monsieur Steed. You have always the finest of tastes Monsieur. I shall have a table ready for you at 6:30."

"Excellentè Henri. Make sure it is the quiet table in the far left corner, nearest the fire place." Steed requested.

"Ah, as you wish Monsieur Steed. It shall be done. See you and your guest at 6:30 Monsieur."

"Merci beaucoup, Henri". Steed thanked him, and replaced the receiver in the phone's cradle.

The Grandfather clock chimed once, as Steed realised it was now four-forty-five. He clicked his fingers once more as he said, "Oh Lord, at this rate I'm going to be late."

He rose from his leather sofa and walked over towards his large oak Grandfathers desk. He took his house keys, and car keys from their position near his writing pad, and placed them in his pocket. He turned, and walked across his living room towards the mirror above the fireplace. He readjusted his bow tie again, patted down his lapels.

And he stared at himself and said, "let tonight become our greatest memory Emma". He smirked at his reflection, as if he was practicing what he was going to say to her.

He turned, looked at the Bordeaux bottle, collecting it from the coffee table. As he turned and looked around the living room to his home. He smiled at himself and rose the wine bottle as if to say a toast, as he said, "here's to the past becoming my future".

He walked out of his living room with the spring back in his step. As he walked across to entrance way towards the large victorian oak door. As he opened it, and left his empty country home, as he walked towards his parked green jaguar. Opening the car door, he sat in the cool leather seat, placing the Bordeaux wine bottle carefully in the seat next to him.

He thought to himself. Perhaps this was the last time his home would be lost to the memories of the past. He smiled to himself. As he started the car engine, it roared to life. He touched the throttle, and changed gear, as the wheels turned and dug heavily into the gravel, as the car edged forward onto its exciting new journey. His thoughts, hopes and dreams were slowly becoming a reality. It would be his future that would control his life now. A future with her beside him, and only he could make that happen, and it began tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

He brought his large powerful green jaguar around the bend of her street. It's headlights shone along the quiet stretch of road. As the yellowing street lights illuminated the pathways, as dusk had slowly began to set in, as it neared 5:55pm. He turned the car into the car park at the front entrance to the larger apartment block of her complex. He slowly parked the jaguar in a bay as the headlights dimmed off and the engine stopped as he took the keys from the ignition.

He took a nervous breath out. As he said to himself. "Well then, this is it." As he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He thought it would be easier than this. He looked into his eyes in the reflection in his rear-view mirror. They answered his question. He was nervous. He said to his reflection. "It's been a long time Emma. You look beautiful as always. Shall we go?" He sighed. As he then said to himself. "I hope she doesn't mind seeing this old man before her?" His mouth became dry as he swallowed hard. Then he glanced at the Bordeaux Rouge wine sitting in the seat beside him. He picked it up, and then smiled to himself as he said. "The past is the past. I want you in my future Emma."

He smiled to himself as he opened the car door. As he stood up, and shut the door behind him, clutching the wine bottle tightly in his free hand. He walked through the car park towards the entrance of the apartment complex. As he entered the complex, he was greeted by the young fair haired doorman sitting behind the large sheltered desk.  
He smiled saying. "I'm here to see Ms. Emma Knight, apartment 65a."  
"Certainly Sir. The lifts to her floor are to the right at the end of the corridor." He responded courteously.

As he walked down the corridor towards the lifts. He pressed the calling button, and stood waiting patiently for the lift to arrive. As it arrived, the doors opened and in he walked into the metal modern elevator, as the doors shut behind him. He noticed his palms were sweaty, as he pressed the button for the sixth floor. His mouth became dry once again. "You can do this," he said to himself, and he took a deep breath out. As the sixth floor light shone on the display, the doors sprung open.

He walked out into the modern art decorated hallway, as each step made him even more nervous than the last. He clasped the wine bottle tightly to his chest, in case he may drop it. As he walked further along the corridor, he passed many doors, none of which were hers. As he continued down the hallway it vaguely reminded him of the numerous times he spent visiting her old flat in Primrose Hill. It was far more modern than her old complex. But the thoughts reassured him somewhat, as he neared the end of the hallway. There he saw the door way of her apartment 65a. There was her name plate, "Ms. Emma Knight", embossed in gold lettering, with a buzzer just below it. As he stood at her door. He let out a low sounding breath, as he reached for the button and pressed it.

"Buzzzzzzzzz".

A few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal her standing there. Her smile warmed him. As he stood there gazing into her eyes. For a brief moment he forgot to speak. As the sight of her caught his breath. She wore a low cut long light pinkish rose gown. The thin straps rested gently on her shoulders. As her auburn hair, shorter than years before, came just above her shoulders.

"Erm…Ms…"

She to stood there breathless, unable to utter a word, as her eyes caught his. Until she began to flush slightly then managed to somehow say.

"Steed!…Punctual as ever…Do come in." She spoke somewhat shakily, but tried to conceal it. As she opened the door further to let him enter her apartment.

"My pleasure my dear." Somehow he had responded without thinking.

He walked through the doorway into a large white walled room. It was double the size of her Primrose Hill apartment. Her modern art paintings hung on the colourless walls. Various art figurines, statutes and busts were displayed on cabinets and tables around the room. A large red piano stood in the far corner. One which Steed instantly recognised. He followed her retreating figure, as she walked down the three steps into the large living and dining room area. Watching every movement her body made.

"I brought something with me that you may remember?" Steed said, slightly uneasy, as if she would have forgotten the wine.

She turned and walked towards him only a few strides from his reach. As she peered down at the wine he carried in his arms.

"I noticed Steed. The Premieres Cotes de Bordeaux Rouge 1967? I also have something you may remember."

She traced her right hand fingers through her hair and over her ear, to reveal the three spotted diamond crusted silver surround earring she wore. Her lips formed into a breath-taking smile as she said to him.

"I could never forgot Premieres Cotes de Bordeaux Steed. Never."

He gazed at her earring, then into her eyes and he was lost forever. He broke the distance between them in two strides. He put his free hand around her waist, as his lips touched hers and he closed his eyes. She brought up her hands to rest on the lapels of his green dinner jacket. Her eyelids shut, as she deepened the kiss and savoured his taste. There they both stood as their lips and tongues caressed each other like they had done years before. It was Steed who broke the kiss first.

He was lost for words, his heart raced, his mouth was no longer dry from fear, but moist from her caresses. He stared into her darkened pupils, and saw the reflection of his own feelings there. Of the memories that flooded back at their kiss. Of the love they once had shared. He no longer feared their reunion. He let out a shallow breath as he said.

"I thought you may have forgotten?"

She stared into his eyes, her hands still rested on his lapels as she caressed the woven threads. Her voice was tender and soothing, but her eyes were moist, as she said.

"How could I ever forgot. The moon is cold and alone when it rises at night, but when the stars surround him, it makes him warm and sparkle."

"And the moon is nothing without the stars that surround him." His eyes shone as he finished the last line.

He brought his fingers up into her hair, as he traced her cheek and brought her chin up to meet his lowering lips as they met hers once more.  
They stood there for a few more moments unable to break from the warmth of each other's lips and taste.


End file.
